


Lick My Wounds

by Pandir



Category: Collateral (2004)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Finger Sucking, M/M, Nosebleed, max has seen some shit, please do not try at home, very irresponsible blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 11:41:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4875526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandir/pseuds/Pandir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The apartment door slammed shut behind him, causing Max to jerk up from his slouched position on the couch and stare. Not because he had not expected him - Vincent knew he had been waiting. It had gotten rather late and Vincent rarely was not on time. </p>
<p>It was probably the blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lick My Wounds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KrokoRobin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrokoRobin/gifts).



> Very self-indulgent ficlet of Vincent bleeding while sucking cock. Max and Vincent are some sort of awkward awful boyfriends, they make it work _somehow_. Don't know if Vincent is an assassin here, probably rather some other dangerous business involving killing, maybe super secret work for the government? Tbh, I'm just here for the blowjobs.

The apartment door slammed shut behind him, causing Max to jerk up from his slouched position on the couch and stare. Not because he had not expected him - Vincent knew he had been waiting. It had gotten rather late and Vincent rarely was not on time. 

It was probably the blood.

Vincent knew very well what a sight he was. _A mess,_ this whole goddamn job had been a mess. 

He sniffed, but that helped little with his nose bleeding, so he wiped it with the sleeve of his grey jacket. It was ruined anyway, jumping from heights and rolling on the concrete did tend to tear and chafe fabric. His mouth burned as he wiped over it and tore at his split lip, and he tasted blood and gunpowder. He cursed under his breath. What an enormous pile of shit this night had been.

“Vincent”, Max was still eyeing him with an increasingly worried expression.  _Great._  “What happened?”

“Here is what”, Vincent interrupted him as he took of his jacket and walked over to the couch. “You skip the questions, and get right to the part where I suck your cock.”

Max gave him a look with a slight frown of disbelief, but Vincent had no nerve for negotiations. He knelt down between Max’s legs and would have had his pants down in no time, if Max had not gotten hold of his hands. “Vincent, wait”, he said, now definitely worried. “Your face- you are bleeding-“

“Shut up, Max”, Vincent snapped, not very eloquently, but it was efficient. After all, he was in quite some pain. “I don’t need any bullshit from you. I had a shit night, and I need a bit of fucking peace. Are we clear on that?”

Max did not seem very convinced, but then he made the smart move and eventually gave in. With a curt nod and a shake of his head, he released Vincent’s hands. It was relief, as Vincent could not care less for his objections right now. Someone else’s bad preparation had set him up for a failure, and it was churning his insides. Peace was not what he needed at all, he needed to blow of steam. He all but tore Max’s sweatpants down and before Max could more than gasp in discomfort, Vincent was already about to unceremoniously jerk his flaccid dick into shape.

Max groaned and grabbed his wrist with an astonishingly strong grip.

“ _Jesus_ , stop that, it hurts.”

Vincent looked up to him, highly irritated.

“Okay, I got it, you need this”, Max said appeasingly, while holding Vincent’s hand still in a vice grip, “But at this rate, you’re gonna rip it off, man.”

Vincent huffed at this, yet when Max tentatively let go of his wrist, he did not rip his hand free.

“So, how about you let me do that.” He had the audacity to give the man kneeling before him a reassuring smile. “I promise that’ll get us there faster. You’re okay with that?”

It was hard to argue with this, since Vincent hardly had any patience for any preparations, so he conceded, rolling his eyes. “Whatever, as long as you stop talking.”

It was a relief that Max did indeed get to it without any further buts and whys. Yet when he busied himself with his cock, he reached out with his free hand to cup Vincent’s face, his fingers carefully brushing over the cuts on his cheek. It took Vincent by surprise and he instinctively recoiled at the contact.

“You gotta help me here a bit, though”, Max explained, almost sheepishly. His thumb brushed over Vincent’s lips, and he wasn’t even deterred by Vincent hissing softly as he touched the bleeding cut. 

“Suck them for me?” 

The question was so straightforward and innocuous, Vincent wondered briefly whether Max’s worry did run less deep than his initial objection had suggested. But he was hardly in the mind to care about Max’s opinion, and if Max needed the incentive, he’d oblige for the sake of it.

Very ready to hurry things along, he took Max’s fingers into his mouth, tasting his own snot and blood as he tongued them. It was hard to breathe while sucking, so he had to breathe around them, licking and running his teeth along the length of Max’s index finger instead. Max hissed at the teeth, but did not object, too focused with finding his rhythm, his eyes always on Vincent. It was odd, decidedly odd, to see someone gaze at him like this. Vincent did not know what to make of it.

“Still not ready?”, he asked, unnerved and impatient. Max sighed, but did not object to Vincent brushing his hand aside.

“Alright, but be careful. No teeth this time.”

There was a slight hint of worry in his apprehensive tone, yet Vincent did not bother assuring Max that he knew how to leave his dick intact. Instead, he licked his bloodied lips. If anything, he was rather worse for wear by now. His nose was clogged and his entire face felt foreign, crusted with blood as it was, and there was a constant dull ache in his bones. What was worse was that everything had started to feel a bit fuzzy around the edges. Thankfully, the sharp pain as he stretched his lips around the tip of Max’s cock ripped through dizziness of his mind. His nose was bleeding again, thick dark blood tickling the short hairs of his beard and coating his lips as he moved them along the shaft. The metallic taste was starting to get a bit nauseating after all the blood he’d swallowed already, but he was determined not to stop and give Max time to freak out about it.

Max’s breath hitched above him, his fingers wandering to the back of Vincent’s neck as he moaned softly. When Vincent had to pause shortly to gasp for breath and wipe the blood away, Max’s fingers pulled his hair almost impatiently. A good sign, though not exactly the reaction Vincent would have thought he’d have to being bled on and engulfed by someone who could not even breathe. Then again, he had hardly considered Max’s opinion at all. This was for him, and whatever weird kick Max was getting out of this was none of Vincent’s concern.

He needed this, now, and to hell with his clogged nose, he decided as he took Max deep, swallowing him greedily, and sucked so hard the wound on his lips felt as if it was torn open. There was faint ringing in his ears that made all noises fade into distance, so he could hardly distinguish Max’s soft moans. Good, they were distracting anyway, subtly creeping into his mind space and getting his thoughts muddled when he should be focused.

Vincent groaned, desperate for release, or was he just desperate for air, it was getting hard to tell. Everything was slipping away but Max’s tensing fingers that were digging into the sensitive skin on the back of his neck, his patience betrayed by a slight jerking of his hips. Then the world went black for the split of a second.

Reflexively, Vincent pulled his head up, hands on Max’s legs, as he tried to regain his senses. Dark spots were dancing before his eyes as he gasped and spluttered, spitting blood and cum on the ground to be able to breath more freely.

“Vincent!”, Max’s voice cut through his confusion. No questions this time, but meddling hands that helped him up and half-pushed him on the couch. “Come, you need to lie down”, he urged him, and Vincent’s hand found the sleeve of Max’s shirt and grabbed onto it. It was hard to find the words to object when the room was still spinning.

“It’s alright”, Max said soothingly, when Vincent’s fingers clutched to his shirt in a desperate attempt to pull himself up again, as if he was a child that needed reassurance. “I’ll be here.”

And Vincent found himself letting go, no longer fighting the blackness that threatened to pull him into unconsciousness.


End file.
